A Piece of Me
by miramisa90212
Summary: Being an awkward introvert, Beth had always stuck with her fraternal twin and his best friend, Stiles and Scott. That is, until that faithful night in the woods where she realized Scott and her brother's life had taken a turn for the worst. Completely isolated from their business, she was fully lured into the supernatural world after seeing a hanging body sliced in half. (IsaacxOC)
1. Blood and Guts Black Blood

**CHAPTER ONE: Blood and Guts... Black Blood**

* * *

Strange. One adjective to describe Beacon Hills is _strange_.

The eccentric events happening in this freak show town doesn't seem to faze the police. It's like, every murder, one-half part of a dead human body… or even a bloodied hospital room won't ever shock them if you count all the moments they've seen blood, guts and all those anatomical crap won't surprise them anymore.

But I was wrong.

These past few weeks, things have become way more strange than anyone can ever imagine that even the police seemed freaked out about it, wondering what was causing this and why it was happening, and in one of those moments, my adventurous, risk-taking—yet idiotic in a weird way—twin brother just had to pry into our father's work (yes, my father's the sheriff).

Stiles and his best friend, Scott McCall, just had to venture out into the woods to find some dead body sliced in half because of reasons I will never be able to understand—it's a Stiles-and-Scott kind of logic, if you didn't get the gist.

The point is, their adventurous attitudes are getting way out of hand. Besides, it's not like they could take home one-half of a—probably decaying—lifeless human body and place it in a glass box for every living creature to see and take pictures of like it was some sort of museum display of dinosaur bones that was excavated by archaeologists.

But then, after that night, nothing has ever been the same.

My twin brother and his best friend seemed too… secretive for me. Being an introvert, I am quite observant of the things and events that surround me.

I could hear Stiles sneaking out at night plenty of times—and lucky for him, our dad isn't at home when that happens. Then there are times when they would stop conversing about something when I enter the room, or when I'm sitting with them on their lunch table, then once I'm not around, they would continue where they left off.

I feel really left out now. I mean, sure, when we were younger, I always felt like I was the third wheel in their friendship but they lured me into their antics sometimes so how was I supposed to know that I wasn't that tight to be in their group. Heck, they let the new girl, Allison Argent, into their group (probably because Scott's dating her).

Usually, Stiles would let me in on their best friend secret stuff, but at the moment, nothing—not even the teensiest information—was given to me, despite me knowing that something actually happened in the woods at that night that changed both of their lives.

But anyways, you might be wondering who I am.

Well, I'm Bethany Jace Stilinski, but you can call me Beth. Born on the 8th of April, five minutes after my fraternal twin brother, Stiles, I am sixteen and currently a high school sophomore in Beacon Hills High School. As an academically excellent—yet a total klutz in the field of sports and athletics—student here in high school, I make sure I don't fail any subject because in high school, the only thing I am actually proud of are my grades.

I've never had a true best friend—well, if you consider befriending Jackson Whittlemore in kindergarten, then I guess I have one friend… who basically doesn't remember me anymore. Or even just an acquaintance then yes, I did have a friend—and I'm quite the introvert, having only Scott and Stiles as my companions in school. The closest I have to a friend that isn't Scott and Stiles is definitely Danny Mahealani.

Though Scott and Stiles get bullied, I don't seem to be bullied by Jackson's little crew of jocks. Weirdly enough, he seems to tolerate my presence more than my brother and Scott, combined.

But yeah, other than those, that's all there is to know about my life and a portion of Beacon Hills.

Or so I thought.

**xXx**

"Stiles," I mumbled, slightly annoyed at my brother. "Give my phone back."

"Come on, Beth," he pouted slightly. "I just need to call Scott, alright? Just a sec."

"Use your phone," I complained, grabbing my clothes for school. "I still need to prepare for school and I'm waiting for Danny to call since he's my partner in a pair project for English. Please, go."

"He doesn't want to answer," he groaned.

"He must be with Allison Argent, then?" I asked. He sighed and nodded.

"Just… just one call, Beth," he said. "One, and I'll leave you to your… girl thing."

I rolled my eyes and nodded, shooing him away.

After washing my face and using dry shampoo on my hair—just because I take night showers, I slipped on my undergarments and my plum colored, three quarter sleeve skater dress. I wrapped a thin, black belt around my waist and slipped on black tights. I slipped on my shiny, black flat brogues and my black beanie, applying some light pink lip gloss and shouldering my backpack.

I grabbed my silver chain bracelet and slipped it on as well, walking downstairs to make toast. Fortunately, Stiles was dressed and finished using my phone.

"Thanks Beth," he grinned, handing me my phone. I flashed him a small smile, nodding and walking to the back of the jeep. I positioned my headphones and drowned all the noise around me as I listened to The Script.

Knowing that Scott would be riding with Stiles and, being the secretive bunch they are, I decided to stay away from whatever business they have to make life easier for them.

Once we arrived in school, I didn't bother saying goodbye, slamming the door as loud as possible. I smirked when I heard Scott groan because of the sound when I lowered the volume of my iPod.

I walked to my locker, grabbing my Chemistry book and my History book.

"Hey," a voice said beside me. I turned and saw Danny—and Jackson.

Not surprising since they _are_ best friends.

"Hey Danny," I smiled, closing my locker. "What's up?"

"It's your free period later, right?" Danny asked.

"Yeah, why?"

"Could you watch the lacrosse practice today?" he asked. "I need someone to cheer for me because _someone _just had to make a bet with someone that a girl can cheer for me, too."

I chuckled when he glowered at Jackson, who merely rolled his eyes and shrugged.

"Alright," I said. "I'll see you in free period."

"Thank you so much, Bethany," he smiled. "I'll give you the fifty dollars that I'll earn in this bet later."

I laughed. "I'll be looking forward to the fifty dollars… and call me Beth, please?"

He smiled and nodded. "Beth."

I waved a goodbye and walked to my first period, History.

I made my way beside Erica Reyes, who didn't notice me sit beside her.

"Hey Erica," I greeted softly. Said girl turned to me and smiled.

"H-Hey," she stuttered a bit.

Ever since we became seatmates in History class, I tried to talk to Erica Reyes. She's epileptic and quite lonely in school. When I saw her all alone in her lunch table once, I walked to her and sat beside her to keep her company. At first, she thought it was because I pitied her. I simply shook my head, saying I know how loneliness felt like, and I don't like seeing people lonely because it's not a nice feeling.

Since then, we were friends… though not that close.

History passed quickly, and the next thing I knew, I was heading to my next class, Chemistry—and unfortunately, with Scott, Stiles and Allison.

I walked into class, sitting beside Isaac Lahey.

I have three words to describe him.

Sweet, sincere, and _annoyingly _cute (by cute, I mean handsome).

"Hi Beth," Isaac greeted, flashing me a small smile. I returned the gesture and brought out my Chemistry book.

"How was your weekend?" he asked.

I shrugged. "Normal, I guess. I didn't really do anything."

"Oh, I see." Awkward silence.

"So," he began again, fiddling with the zipper of his jacket slightly—insert fangirl squeal here because he looked so adorable! "Would you like to study in the local library tomorrow, after school? I need a bit of help in Trigonometry."

I smiled and nodded. "Sure," I said, turning my head back to the chalk board when Mr. Harris walked into the classroom.

Oh my goodness.

Did Isaac just…

Did he just ask me out?

I managed to push away my attempted pig-like squeal and the huge grin that wanted to creep along the sides of my mouth.

Best Chemistry class ever.

**xXx**

Walking to the washroom with a big book was hard.

I mean seriously, why is it that our Trigonometry book should have to be _that_ big? These pages can last me two years, damn it!

I was about to open the door to the female restroom, when I heard a bit of shouting in the male restroom.

Being the curious girl I am, I slowly placed my ear by the door, making sure no one saw me as I tried to make out the voices inside.

"…what's happening?" a muffled voice asked. It sounded like… Jackson?

"Body's fighting the bite," a different voice asked. This one, I don't know who it is.

"Why?" Jackson questioned, sounding a bit panicked.

"I… don't know."

"W-What does it _mean_?" he asked, even more panicked. Whatever's happening there, it sounds serious. And what bite are they talking about? A bug bite?

"What does it _mean_?!" Jackson yelled, making me jump. Alright, that's it, I'm going inside.

Sucking up all my pride, I barged into the male restroom, gasping when I saw Jackson's state.

He was _bleeding_. Bleeding on both ears and his nose.

And it was _black_, not red. _Black _blood.

Oh my God.

"J-Jackson,' I whimpered slightly. "What happened? I… I heard shouting and—"

"Nothing happened," he said all too quickly. "Go away."

I bit my lip, swiftly grabbing a lot of tissue and walking straight up to him, wiping his ears and nose gently.

"What the heck—"

"Hold still," I said softly. "Relax."

I never noticed how tense he really was until his shoulders slumped down and he closed his eyes.

Soon enough, all the blood was gone and he stood awkwardly as I threw the bloodied pieces of tissue paper to the nearest trash bin.

"Better?" I asked.

He nodded slightly. "Uh… thanks," he mumbled.

"You're welcome," I said softly, giving him a small smile. "If that happens again, you can call for me… or whatever."

"Yeah," he said, shuffling his feet awkwardly. "You… might want to, you know, get out of here before someone comes and sees you in the male restroom."

I flushed and nodded, scrambling away and hearing a slight chuckle from behind me.

Whoa.

Did Jackson and I just… did we just have a normal conversation there?

This day is getting weirder and weirder every hour.

The rest of the subjects flew by until it was free period. I sat on the bleachers by the center, getting a clear view of the field.

I grinned when I saw the person I was looking for.

"Danny!" I yelled. Said person turned and smiled, waving. I saw Jackson flash someone an _I-told-you-so _kind of look, accompanied with his signature smirk. I rolled my eyes mentally and smiled.

As I watched them practice—with a bit of cheering for Danny, courtesy of yours truly—I saw someone I never knew was in the lacrosse team.

"Isaac!" I yelled as coach announced a ten minute break. Isaac turned to my direction and grinned, waving frantically. I giggled and waved back in a more subtle manner.

"Hi," he breathed out after running towards me from across the field.

"Hi," I smiled.

He tilted his head to the side, suddenly poking the area near the corners of my mouth.

"I never noticed that you had dimples before," he mumbled.

I chuckled and shrugged. "I don't like showing my dimples when I smile. Makes me feel like I have abnormal craters on my cheeks or something."

"No way," he said softly. "I like them. It looks adorable with your pretty face."

I felt the heat slowly creeping to my cheeks. I gulped, trying to push it away.

He grinned slightly. "And it looks even more adorable with that flushed face of yours."

And I now resemble a tomato.

"S-Shut up," I mumbled, pushing him playfully.

"Get back on the field!" I heard Coach Finstock shout.

I smiled at Isaac. "Good luck… and have fun," I said.

"I will," he smiled. "Cheer loud… for Danny, I mean."

I shrugged. "I'll cheer for you, too."

He blinked. "You will?"

"Yeah, I'll be your number one fan," I grinned. "Don't let me down, alright? I'll be cheering for you."

"Don't worry," he said, shaking his head vigorously. "I won't let you down."

I watched as Jackson passed the ball to another player, passing it to another player while dodging someone who was about to tackle him. The ball went to Scott, then went to Isaac.

"Oh shoot," I heard coach mumble from below.

I raised an eyebrow. What's wrong with giving the ball to Isaac?

Isaac looked at me for a second, and shot the ball to the net, gaining one goal.

"Hm," I heard coach again. "Not bad. Not bad, at all."

Once they ended practice—and Danny handed me fifty bucks, I ran to Isaac, nearly toppling him over.

"That was a great score," I grinned. "You didn't let me down."

"That was because for the first time, someone was cheering me on," he smiled, shouldering his bag.

"Like I said," I shrugged, grinning. "I'm your number one fan."

"Exactly why that goal I made was for you, Beth."

**xXx**

"No, you will not."

"Stiles!"

"There's actually nothing wrong with what Beth will be doing tomorrow."

"Shut up, Scott!"

"See? Scott's okay with it!"

"That's because his sister isn't going on a date tomorrow."

"It's not a date!"

Okay, so telling your overly protective, fraternal twin brother, who is five minutes older than you isn't actually the brightest idea I ever did, but I had to tell him or he'll call dad if he didn't know where I was at dismissal time tomorrow and, knowing our father, he could send a whole team of police to look for me.

"Beth," Stiles groaned. "You dating—"

"It's not a date, alright?!" I yelled. "And so what if I go out with a guy? Do you want me to grow old alone or something?"

"If possible," he mumbled, loud enough for me to hear.

"_Stiles!_"

"Alright, I'm sorry, okay?!" he yelled. "I'm just… I'm just looking out for you. I don't want you to get hurt."

"Stiles," I said, my eyes softening ever so slightly. "I'll be fine… and it's not like he likes me or I like him, no way, it's impossible, absolutely not going to happen because we're not even close, heck we don't even hang out. I mean, seriously, why do you think we'll be dating after this study session, I mean, he could like another girl—"

"Beth…"

"—and pretty much, I don't think I'm the girlfriend material and I've never even had a boyfriend, and I'm not that pretty. I mean, sure, I'm not ugly but it doesn't mean I'm really pretty or something, it just means I don't look bad but then Isaac called me pretty a while ago which was really nice of him—"

"Beth?"

"—but then again, he might be saying that just to be nice because he pities me that no one compliments me or no one likes me, but then I don't know, it just sounded so sincere and did you just see the way his eyes sparkle? Oh my goodness, he is so perfect I can't even contain the happiness I felt when he asked me out. This is like, the highlight of my day! But then what if he just really needs help in Trigonometry and then after that he won't talk to me anymore? Oh my gosh, Stiles, what am I going to do—"

"_Beth!_"

"_What?!_" I yelled, breathing heavily.

"You're rambling," Stiles pointed out.

"I'm sorry," I groaned. "I just… I don't know…"

"Beth?"

"Yeah Scott?"

"You'll be fine," he assured, like the big brother figure he is. "I saw you guys in the field a while ago. He really does like you, trust me."

"You think so?"

"Yeah, I do," he smiled. "But if he hurts you, you can call me or your brother. We'll kick his stupid ass for you, alright?"

I smiled. "Thanks Scott. You're awesome," I said, hugging him in a sisterly way.

"Yeah, sure," Stiles grumbled. "My best friend gets to be hugged by my sister. Fine by me."

I giggled and pulled away from Scott, wrapping my arms around my twin.

"Love you, Stiles."

"Same here, Beth," he smiled, hugging me back.

I slumped back to my seat, looking at the window. Rolling the window down, I narrowed my eyes as the cold wind stung them slightly.

I suddenly saw a flash of movement in the woods, like a huge creature. I raised an eyebrow, telling Stiles to stop the car.

"Why?" he asked, suddenly alert. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I mumbled. "It's just…"

"Did you see anything?" Scott asked.

"A movement…" I mumbled. "Let me go check it out."

"Wait, Beth—"

I ran into the woods, suddenly intrigued by whatever that was.

My sprint turned to walking as I plunged deeper into the heart of the woods. I thought I was going to find some sort of cool thing—wow, I'm turning into Stiles and Scott—but I was horribly mistaken.

Horribly, frighteningly, and terribly mistaken.

Right in front of me, was Gerard Argent, the new principal of Beacon Hills High School, holding a long and sharp object, together with who I know was Allison's father, Chris Argent.

But that wasn't the terrible part.

In front of them was a person, his hair disheveled and his clothes messy. His body was limply hanging, but _only _his upper limb. The lower half of his body was on the ground, mixed with blood and guts that spilled from his upper body.

I did what any sane and normal person would do.

I let out a bloodcurdling scream.


	2. Missing and Naked?

**CHAPTER TWO: Missing and Naked?**

* * *

I ran.

I ran fast and I ran crying.

And I definitely looked insane.

Oh my goodness.

A dead body, Allison's dad, and our school principal. In the forest.

"Beth!" I heard Scott yell. "Beth! Beth, where are you?!"

"Beth!" another yelled, this time, it was Stiles. "Beth, get back here! It's dangerous!"

I ran to where I think their voices are and, instead, ran and bumped into a hard chest. I looked up and saw a guy, probably in his early twenties, with cold, green eyes and black hair.

"Scott," he called out. "Scott, she's here."

How are they going to hear him? And how does Scott and Stiles know this person?

"Oh thank God," I heard my brother say as he appeared out of the tall trees, stumbling. He threw his arms around me, caging me tight.

"Damn it, Beth!" he yelled. "Don't do that again."

"I—I'm… I'm sorry, I just… I saw… I mean—I—I saw—I saw a—I saw a de—"

"Shh," Stiles shushed me, still hugging me. "Don't say anything. Let's get out of here now."

"Thanks Derek," I heard Scott say before following us back to the jeep.

We left the Derek guy in the woods, making me wonder if he'll be alright or of he'll see the dead body too.

"Is… is it alright to leave that Derek guy there?" I mumbled to them, seemingly worn out by my screaming and panicking after seeing a _live _dead body hanging, with the principal and my brother's best friend's girlfriend's father there as well.

"He'll be alright," Scott said, hopping to the passenger's seat. "Trust me."

"You have no idea," I heard Stiles mutter before starting the engine of the jeep and driving to Scott's house to drop him off.

Once we dropped him off, we then headed home, with me crashing on the couch, sleep immediately taking over my senses.

I was suddenly woken up by my father, who looked like he just got home.

"Hey Beth," he said. "Don't sleep on the couch. You'll get back pains."

"What time is it?" I yawned, still tired.

"Midnight," he answered. "Come on, get to bed."

"Carry me," I mumbled, holding my hands out like a child.

He chuckled slightly and hooked one arm under my knees and another on my back, hoisting me up. I placed my head on his shoulder and wrapped my arms around my father's neck.

He kicked the door of my room open, laying me down on my bed.

"Sleep tight, sweetheart," he whispered, pressing his lips on my temple.

'Night daddy," I mumbled sleepily. "Love you."

"Love you too, kid."

**xXx**

"Wait, so let me get this straight," I said, eating another spoon of cereals. "Lydia disappeared… without clothes?"

After seeing the hanging dead body a night ago, I decided to keep quiet and just forget about it, hoping that I won't get dragged into anything dangerous or murderous. Basically, I want to play safe and I _really _don't want to get involved with a dead body. No, thank you!

Another thing that happened the past few days was something Stiles witnessed. Apparently, while he was visiting Lydia Martin—one of our classmates—he suddenly heard a scream from her room and when they got to her, she was gone. And _naked_. In the _woods_.

"Yes, she did," Stiles sighed. "I don't even know what's gotten into her and why she ran away… clothing free."

"Well, if she's missing and naked, won't she feel cold with the temperature here in Beacon Hills when it's nighttime?" I said, eating my last spoonful of cereals.

"Which is why I hope we find her alive and walking than frozen because of the cold," my brother said, shouldering his backpack.

"I hope she's okay then," I mumbled, placing my bowl into the kitchen sink, shouldering my backpack and walking out of the house with Stiles. "Wait, what do you mean by _we?_" I raised an eyebrow.

"By _we_, I meant Scott and I, unless you want to join us?" he said.

I shook my head. "No thanks, I don't want to be dragged into _whatever _this is, okay?"

"Suit yourself," he shrugged.

We drove to Scott's house and picked him up. Once we arrived, I jumped out of the car—not forgetting to slam the car door to annoy Scott and Stiles because of their secretive attitudes for the past few weeks—and went into the school building, walking to my locker and opening it.

"Hey," I heard Allison greet beside me.

I turned and gave her a small smile. "Hey," I said softly.

"I like your outfit today," she complimented. "Very cute."

I was wearing a gray jumper dress—which is actually one of my favorites—and my black tights. My shoes were my favorite gray ankle boots with silver buckles.

"Thanks," I said, shutting my locker. "Bye Allison."

"Bye."

Well, that was awkward.

I scurried to Chemistry class, just so Mr. Harris won't kill me for being late. I sat beside my—really cute and adorable—partner, Isaac.

"Good morning," he smiled, his eyes showing that beautiful sparkle I always admired.

"Hi," I breathed out. Okay, I sounded really dazed and weird.

I cleared my throat. "I mean, hi."

He chuckled. "How's your day so far?"

I smiled. "It just got better."

Oh God, Isaac, you _absolutely _have no idea how my day just got so much better because of your beautiful, enchanting smile.

He grinned at my reply. "So, are you still up for our study da—I mean, our study… session?"

"Of course," I smiled. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because, you know," he sighed, scratching the nape of my neck. "No one wants to hang out with a loser, right? I don't want anyone to judge you after spending the day with me."

I rolled my eyes. "Isaac, please. I don't care, heck, I barely have any friends."

"I'm your friend," he smiled. "Always have, always will."

I flashed him a grin, trying to hide the pink hue appearing on the apples of my cheeks.

Well, it looks like Chemistry is becoming my favorite subject!

**xXx**

"So, what topic?" I asked, flipping the pages of my Chemistry book.

Once my last subject was finished, I spotted Isaac waiting for me outside the classroom. Basically, this gesture made me all tomato red and stutter-y. I'm pretty sure instead of saying 'hi', I said 'huhuahuehahuehu'.

"I think we stopped at—"

His phone suddenly rang, making the librarian—who was quite near us—shush at us. Wait, was that saliva I just saw spray out of her mouth?

He grinned sheepishly at me. "Sorry."

"It's fine," I smiled. "Answer your phone, it might be important."

He sighed and nodded, standing up and walking out of the library to answer his call.

In all honesty, I didn't really want him to answer his phone. I mean, seriously, it's our study date—I mean, study session, and we're here to spend our time staring at each other admiringly—I mean, study our current topic in Chemistry.

So I sat there, reading bits and pieces of our Chemistry lesson. I was halfway finished with my Chemistry homework when I looked at the time in my phone.

It was _freaking _6:00 PM.

I looked at the time in disbelief, my eyes almost popping out of their sockets. I stood up and walked to the entrance of the library, slowly pulling the door open. I was baffled when I saw the empty hallway.

Isaac _left _me.

He _left _me.

_Alone_.

"I can't believe this," I mumbled.

I walked back to the table Isaac and I stayed and shouldered my backpack, taking his as well to return it to him—or, at least, return it to his home.

I looked through the contacts in my phone and saw Stiles' name. Just when I was about to press the 'call' button, my phone died.

My phone freaking _died_ when I needed it the most.

I cursed loudly and shouldered Isaac's backpack as well—at least, I tried to. I scurried down the stairs of the school and saw that the only car in the school parking lot was Jackson Whittlemore's. I sighed and ran my hand through my hair.

"This is _not _my day," I grumbled, walking over to Jackson's car. But, the good thing about this is that Jackson lives across Isaac. I knocked on his driver seat window. He rolled the window down and looked at me with a raised eyebrow.

"Uh, may I help you?" he asked.

"Um, hey Jackson," I said, biting my lip. "You're… you're neighbors with Isaac Lahey, right?"

"Yeah, why?" he asked warily.

"Could you do me a favor and bring me to his house?" I asked. "Scott and Stiles kind of left me and Isaac somewhat… left me in the library with his bag when we were supposed to study together."

"You mean he stood you up on your little study date?"

"That is basically the simpler and even more hurtful term of it," I muttered.

"Look," he said. "I know you helped me in the male restroom last time when I was bleeding tremendously, but we're not actually _friends _so… yeah. Find someone else."

"But—"

"No buts," he interrupted. "Now, goodbye."

I looked at him in disbelief and shook my head, shouldering Isaac's backpack and walking out of the school.

Damn you, Jerkface Whittlemore.

Knowing my way around Beacon Hills, I remember passing by the Lahey residence when Danny had to get something from Jackson's house before going to his own place for our school project. Fortunately, it's near the school, so it was pretty easy to spot.

Thirty minutes after, I was standing on the door step of Isaac's house. Taking a deep breath, I was about to knock on their door when I heard glass crashing against something hard—a wall, I guess—followed by screaming and more glass smashing.

Immediately, I stepped away from their door step and walked a few strides away from their house to see what's going to happen.

Isaac barged out of his house and grabbed his bicycle, peddling away. Mr. Lahey then stepped out of the house as well, calling for Isaac. He ran to his car and opened the door, turning the engine on and speeding away to follow his son.

I took this as a chance to bring his bag to his house. I tip toed into their humble abode, dropping Isaac's backpack on the couch of their living room.

Curiosity got the best of me as I walked around the house, stopping in front of the kitchen. Broken glass were scattered everywhere. Glasses, plates, and food were spilled all over the floor.

Okay, I have to stop snooping around.

I ran out of the Lahey residence, heading straight for home. I squealed when thunder suddenly roared in the night sky. Droplets of water came in contact with my skin and it suddenly turned to a strong shower of rain.

Stiles gave me a questioning look when he saw me barge into our house, soaking wet, breathless and mixed with a bit of dirt and sweat. I ignored my brother calling my name and headed straight for my room, locking my door, with only one question in my mind.

Was Isaac being abused by his father? Or, was that an outcome of a childish tantrum?

**xXx**

I woke up with a head ache, standing up and walking to my bathroom to look at my mirror. Basically, for my reflection, I have four words.

I. Looked. Like. Shit.

My hair was in disarray with some leaves sticking out. My face was all dirty, with a smear of drool at the corner of my mouth. My clothes were dirty and wrinkly—and they were the same clothes I wore yesterday, which means I wasn't able to change into my pajamas.

Damn.

I sighed and stripped off of my dirty clothes, cleaning up all the dirt and grime and other ick all over my body. I wrapped my hair in a towel and changed into a brown floral print blouse with slightly puffed short sleeves and a garter at the bottom of my bust then started flowing as it reached my waist. I slipped on a pair of skinny jeans and my black pair of low cut converse sneakers.

I took my blow dryer and dried up my hair, leaving it as it is. I grabbed my mauve colored hoodie and shouldered my backpack.

Running downstairs, I bumped into Stiles, who grabbed my shoulders and turned me to face him.

"Hey, what's up with you last night?" he asked, a worried look washing over his face. "And why did you go home soaking wet?"

I sighed and shook my head. "Nothing, I was just… I ran back here."

"Wait, what?" he said, looking at me with a surprised expression. "I thought Isaac—"

"Isaac left me in the library with his backpack," I interrupted him.

"What the hell?!" he reacted. "I am _so _going to—"

"Stiles," I said sharply. "Please, don't. I just… I don't want to talk about it, alright? I just want to go to school and get this day over with, okay?"

He sighed and nodded. "Alright. But if he even tries to _look _at you I will—"

"Stiles!"

"Yeah," he grumbled. "No touchy Isaac. Got it."

I ignored whatever Stiles and Scott were talking about for the whole ride to school. I slammed the car door even harder than normal and ran to my locker, ignoring Allison's greeting as well.

I walked into Chemistry class, trying to ignore Isaac's presence.

"Um, were you the one who brought my bag back?" he asked me nervously. I nodded stiffly.

"Thanks, Beth." Again, another stiff nod.

"Beth, I'm really sorry for leaving you in the library," he said. "Please, just talk to me. Shout at me or get mad at me, whatever, I don't care. Just, please, _please_, talk to me."

"Alright," I said, making it sound sharper than it was supposed to be. "How about you tell me why you left me in the library without even saying goodbye and without even getting your damned bag?"

He hesitated. "I—I can't."

"Then please, don't talk to me," I said tersely and turned back to Mr. Harris, taking notes and reciting in class to distract myself.

Finally, the bell rang and I shoved all my things as fast as I could to avoid Isaac, but he, unfortunately, caught up to me.

"Wait, Beth!" he called out.

It seemed that luck was on my side when Scott appeared beside me with Stiles trailing behind him. Scott held my wrist and gave me a sad smile, bringing me to my classroom to avoid interacting with Isaac.

"Don't worry, you can handle this," Scott said. A good thing with having Scott McCall like an older brother is that he would offer help if I would ask for it and if he thinks I need it.

Unlike Stiles—who would tell me that he'd kick the ass of the person who'd hurt me which is, though sweet and heartwarming of him, is unnecessary—Scott knows I want to be known as an independent person, not a damsel-in-distress.

"Thanks Scott," I smiled. He shrugged and gave me a lazy grin.

I looked at Stiles and gave him a big hug. "Love you, bro."

He wrapped his arms around me as well. "Love you too, sis."

I smiled and walked to class, distracting myself with homework once again. Soon enough, the bell rang and I walked to the direction of the lacrosse field, wanting to watch my brother as he practiced.

I was surprised when I spotted Lydia with Allison—this time, clothed.

"Lydia!" I called. She turned and raised an eyebrow at me.

"May I help you?" she asked.

"Are you alright after… you know?"

"Of course, I am," she laughed, flipping her hair.

"Um, alright," I smiled. "Bye."

"But thanks for asking," she said, flashing me a genuine smile. I smiled back and continued walking to the lacrosse field, greeting Danny and grinning at Stiles and Scott, while ignoring Isaac.

I raised an eyebrow when Scott started tackling all of his teammates despite being the goalie. My eyebrow raised even higher—if that was even possible—when he and Isaac suddenly bumped each other and fell to the ground, staring at each other intensely.

All of a sudden, my father and two of his police posse began walking into the lacrosse field. Coach Finstock called Isaac over to the police, and they began bringing him back into the building.

My father paused and so did his other two companions for a moment, looking around and stopping his gaze on my direction. He called me over and I raised an eyebrow, grabbing my bag and walking over to him.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

My father sighed. "I have some questions I'd like to ask you, young lady."

My eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. "Why? What's wrong? Did something happen?"

"Well, something did happened last night," he answered, running a hand down his tired face. "Mr. Lahey died."

My eyes widened in surprise. Mr. Lahey died? But he was just alive and kicking last night! And he followed Isaac out of their house because the latter peddled away together with his bicycle.

What do I have to do with anything? I just returned Isaac's bag because he left it with me in the library.

"Why am I involved, then?" I asked, shouldering my backpack once more when it started dropping from my shoulder. "I didn't do anything. Why am I needed?"

He looked at me straight into my eyes and sighed.

"Jackson's a witness, too," he said. "And apparently, he mentioned that you asked for a ride to the Laheys' place and he saw you in front of their house last night."


	3. Questioned by Daddy Sherriff

**Guys, have you seen the trailer for Teen Wolf's Season 3B? **

**Goodness gracious, I wanted to cry. **

**I mean, sure, Stiles is the center of the storyline this time (which I'm actually happy about), but it's more of the Allison-Isaac thing. To be honest, I don't like that idea. Yes, it's unexpected and the audience likes unexpected stuff, but this is just… no, I can't accept the fact that there is a possibility that Allison and Isaac might end up together. I think Isaac deserves way more than Allison. I have this love-hate relationship with Allison. I love her archery skills, but I hate her for breaking Scott's heart and moving on to another werewolf. Honestly, that's just shitty. And besides, Allison has way too many love interests already. Maybe I'm just jealous or whatever, but this is my opinion about it. **

**Moving on from my rant, here's the next chapter :)**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Teen Wolf... but I want to own every werewolf... sadly, I don't. I own Beth, though :)  
**

* * *

**CHAPTER THREE: Questioned by Daddy Sherriff**

* * *

"Wait, so are you telling me that you knew Isaac's father was hitting him?" my dad questioned as the annoying little jerk—a.k.a. Jackson Whittlemore—lazily lounged on the chair.

Apparently, I needed to answer some questions as well since I was, in a way, present during the indident that Mr. Lahey died—which just shocked me greatly.

Anyways, Jackson was just getting in my nerves as he answered my father's questions in an uninterested way—but then again, this is Jackson 'Jerkface' Whittlemore we're talking about, so I guess I shouldn't even care.

But this is Isaac's family life we're talking about and as much as I am pretty pissed off that he left me in the library last time, I still like him and Jackson shouldn't be this annoying of an asshole to actually answer my father's questions.

"Hitting him?" he snorted. "He was kicking the crap out of him."

"Whoa there, time out," I said, making a 'time out' signal with my two arms. "You're telling me—"

"Me," my dad said.

I waved him off. "Whatever—that you flipping knew that Isaac's dad was beating the shit out of him—"

"Language, Beth," dad interrupted, again.

"Whatever," I waved him off, again. "And you didn't even do anything about it?"

Jackson shrugged. "Well, it's not my damn problem if his dad's abusive and a huge ass."

I glared at him. "It may not be your damn problem, but you could've at least helped him, asshole!"

This time, he glared at me. "Look here, Beth, I don't give a damn, alright? So might as well not care if it's not my damn problem because I have my own share of damned problems that I need to handle."

"Kids, settle down," dad said, pushing us away from one another. Wow, I didn't even notice how close we already were. Ew, thanks dad.

He sighed. "You know, it's funny that the kids getting beaten up are always the ones who least deserve it," he said.

"Yeah," Jackson muttered. "Wait, what?"

I rolled my eyes. Dumbass.

Dad sighed, again. "I think we're done here."

As he was about to walk out of the office, I grabbed his arm. He turned to me with a slightly raised eyebrow in question.

"Hey dad," I mumbled. "You'll do everything you can to help Isaac, right?"

He gave me a small smile. "It's part of the job description, Beth. Of course, I will."

I smiled and wrapped my hands around him, and automatically, my dad wrapped his arms around my small figure. After a few seconds, he pulled away first, with one arm around my shoulder and one of my arms around his waist.

We walked out of the office to find Scott and Stiles—with the latter desperately and swiftly opening the nearest article of reading to his face. Fail whale.

My dad raised an eyebrow. "Hi Scott."

"Hey," he mumbled.

Dad looked at Stiles and raised his eyebrow higher—if that was possible. He sighed and gave a slight pat on my shoulder, flashing me a small smile and walking away.

I waved a goodbye and turned to the two nincompoops sitting.

"Seriously, guys?" I rolled my eyes. "You got yourselves in detention just to eavesdrop on our conversation? Really?"

"W-Well, you'll never know, we may have done something really bad 'cause we're badass," Stiles said, lowering the magazine he shoved to his face.

"Scott? I can believe. You? Badass? No way," I said. "Besides, you probably just threw paper at a teacher or something."

"Hey!"

"Okay," I chuckled. "Bye guys. Enjoy… nah, I don't think you will."

And with that, I walked away to my next class.

**xXx**

"Beth!" I heard someone call me. "Beth!"

I turned around and saw Scott running to me, swiftly grabbing my hand and tugging me to the direction he was headed. I yelped and clumsily followed, almost tripping.

"Where are we headed?" I asked. "And most importantly, why are you running?"

"Do you want to see Isaac?" he said. I shrugged. "Then let's go," he said, tugging me and running faster.

We ran out of the blue door to the outside, spotting Isaac in the police car my dad is in, driving away.

"Isaac!" I called out. "Isaac!"

He turned and saw me, surprise evident on his face. I bit my lip and gave him a small smile, hoping that he got the gist that he was forgiven.

He smiled and nodded, biting his lip and waving as the police car disappeared.

My smile faltered. "Scott?" I called out weakly without looking at him.

"Yeah?" he replied.

"Please tell me what's going on," I said, exasperation evident in my voice. "I'm—I'm so confused already! I don't have a fucking clue with what's going on with you and Stiles—heck, even Allison knows what you're doing!"

He sighed. "Beth, it's not that easy—"

"And you think watching you guys is easy?" I snapped, turning to him. My eyes are probably blazing with anger right now, tears threatening to roll down my cheeks. "I see Stiles sneaking out in the middle of the night, and I'm stuck at home, waiting and wondering and worrying because I have no idea what fiasco you guys are in, and I'm scared that Stiles won't go back home because he goes back so late at night! Scott, you think that's not easy? Well, damn you!"

A car engine roared, making Scott and I turn to that direction. It was a black car, and that Derek guy from the woods was there.

"Get in," he told Scott.

"Are you serious?" Scott said. "You did that. That's your fault."

"I know that," the Derek dude answered. "Now get in the car."

Scott shook his head. "No, I've got a better idea. I'm gonna call a lawyer because a lawyer might actually have a chance at getting him out before the moon goes up."

I raised an eyebrow at the two. What the hell are they talking about?

"Not when they do a real search of the house," the Derek guy said, deepening my confusion. Are they talking about Isaac's case?

"What do you mean?" Scott questioned.

"Whatever Jackson said to the cops, what's in the house is worse," he answered. "A lot worse."

The tired squealed, making me cringe at the sound. God, I hate it when cars do that.

Scott and Derek had a staring contest, before Derek opened the door of the passenger's seat. As Scott was about to go in, I grabbed his arm.

"Scott, where are you going?" I asked. "Is it about Isaac?"

"It is," he said.

"I want to go with you," I told him.

"Beth—"

"Cut the crap, Scott," I snapped. "Isaac's my friend, and I've actually looked in his house, but not further. I was also in the room where Jackson was questioned. I want to know what's going on, please Scott? I'm desperate here, right now."

Scott looked at Derek, then at me.

He sighed. "Get in," he said.

"Wait, what?" Derek said.

"She needs to know," Scott told him. "I'm tired of keeping secrets from my sister."

"I thought she was Stiles' sister?"

"She's my sister, too," he said and turned to me. "Get in."

I grinned and hugged Scott tightly. "Thank you, Scott," I whispered and opened the door to the backseat.

Derek sighed and shrugged. "Oh well," he said and sped away.

In no time, we arrived at Isaac's house.

"We should wait for night time at the moment," Derek said, shutting the engine off. "People would get suspicious if three strangers suddenly walked into a possible crime scene."

"Beth," Scott said. "You should understand that whatever is going on, it's not normal."

I narrowed my eyes. "What do you mean?"

Scott and Derek looked at each other, almost like a mental internal battle of some sort.

"Beth, we're dealing with things out of the ordinary," Derek said, sighing. "We're dealing with the supernatural."

"And by supernatural, you mean… what, exactly?" I asked.

"What do you know about lycanthropy?" he asked.

"Lycanthropy?" I repeated. "Like, werewolves and stuff?"

"Yes."

"Well, I've read a bit of them," I shrugged. "Some change shape completely, meaning they're pure bred werewolves or something of the sort. Then there's that human with werewolf things… I don't remember completely, it was a long time ago."

"So you have a bit of insights on werewolves, right?" he asked.

"Yeah, why?"

"Then you should realize that we're dealing with werewolves right now," he answered.

I stared at him for a long while.

"You mean those human turn werewolf during a full moon?" I asked.

"Yup," he answered.

"With the canines and howling stuff?"

"Yup."

"And the werewolf biting thing?"

"Yup."

"At least she understood it easily," Scott shrugged.

"Actually, I was waiting for some cameramen and someone to just shout 'you got punk'd' or something like that," I answered. "And seriously? Werewolves? That's the best excuse you've got?"

Derek glowered at me and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. As he opened them, I gasped.

Red eyes.

"Holy shit," I mumbled, averting my gaze to Scott, who was staring at me with glowing liquid gold eyes.

"Goodness gracious," I mumbled. "You guys are—"

"She finally understood!"

"—Vampires?"

Scott and Derek blinked at me. "What?" the both asked.

"Kidding," I said, waving my hand. "You guys aren't pale and dead so, nope, not vamps."

Scott chuckled. "So, now do you believe us?"

I shrugged. "I guess?" I said. "I don't know, but Stiles isn't… you know."

"No, he's human, don't worry," Scott assured me.

"What about Allison?"

"She is what you call a werewolf hunter," Derek answered.

I raised an eyebrow and turned to Scott. "A werewolf and a werewolf hunter… dating? What is this, a new version of Twilight or something?"

"Tell me about it," I heard Derek mumble, making Scott glower at him.

"Anyway," I said. "So, you guys are werewolves and my brother knows about this?"

"He does," Scott said. "He's actually the one who told me I was a werewolf."

"Typical," I snorted. "He is the one who loves these weird and out-of-this-world stuff."

"That he does," Scott agreed.

"So you guys are a pack?" I asked. "Like, a wolf pack?"

"I'm not a part of his pack," Scott said, pointing at Derek. "I'm in no one's pack."

"And I'm the alpha in my pack," Derek told me.

"Wait, so is Isaac one of you, too?" I asked. "Because why else would he be part of this, right?"

"He is and he's in Derek's pack," Scott answered. "A new werewolf, actually. So he could be more out of control that us."

"Okay, enough chit chat," Derek said, walking out of his car and going to the back compartment. Scott waited for me to get out and we walked together to Derek, who was grabbing three flashlights. Wow, I never actually realized that it was already night time.

"We'll need these," he said, handing one to me and one to Scott. "One thing we should know, though, is that Isaac wasn't the one who killed his dad."

Derek closed the back compartment and walked ahead of us inside the house. Scott and I followed, the former telling me to go ahead of him for safety reasons.

The house was dark, with no source of light except the glow of the moon through the windows, which didn't help much. We followed Derek into the house, looking around and absorbing everything inside.

I turned my flashlight on as Derek ushered Scott to go ahead. With Derek behind me, I made sure to stay closer to Scott.

"If Isaac didn't kill his father, who did?" Scott asked.

"I don't know yet," Derek said, looking around.

"Then how do you know he's telling the truth?" Scott questioned. I glowered at the back of his head and smacked him.

"Ow, what was that for?" Scott grumbled, rubbing the back of his head.

"Isaac wouldn't lie," I told him. "I know he wouldn't."

"And I trust my senses," Derek shrugged. "And it's a combination of them, not just my sense of smell."

"You saw the lacrosse thing today?" Scott said.

"Yeah."

"Did it look that bad?"

"Yeah."

We walked to a white wooden door. Derek opened the door, leading to a staircase downwards.

"You wanna learn?" Derek said. "Let's start now."

"What's down there?" Scott asked.

"Motive," Derek answered, ushering me to go ahead of him and follow Scott. I kept quiet, letting them do all the talking while I look around.

"What am I looking for?" he asked again.

"Follow your senses," Derek advised as we descended the stairs.

"What happened down here?" Scott asked after a few moments of looking around. I stepped away when I spotted a creepy looking clown stuffed toy on a chair.

"The kind of thing that leaves an impression," Derek answered. I spotted a light scratch on the floor. It wasn't that prominent, but it was there. Scott confirmed my observation when he traced the claw marks with his hand.

He looked forward and saw a huge box-like metal storage. I followed him and heard Derek's footsteps behind me as he followed our direction.

Derek pointed his flashlight at the box. "Open it," he told Scott, grabbing my arm lightly and pulling me away from Scott.

Scott slowly opened the box and I had to cover my mouth to stop the gasp that was threatening to let out on my throat.

There were claw marks covering the whole inside of the box, almost as if someone was in there and he was trying to get out because he couldn't stay there. Almost like a form of torture. My mind was all jumbled and confused, and for once, I didn't have the answer to what I was looking at.

"This is why he said yes to you," Scott said.

"Everyone wants power," Derek told him.

"If we help you, then you have to stop," Scott said, slightly infuriated. "You can't just go around turning people into werewolves."

"I can if they're willing."

"Did you tell Isaac about the Argents? About being hunted?" he questioned Derek.

"Yes, and he still asked," he answered.

"Then he's an idiot," Scott grumbled.

"An you're the idiot dating Argent's daughter," Derek argued and Scott looked at him in surprise. "Yeah, I know your little secret and if I know, how long do you think it's gonna take for them to find out? You saw what happens to an omega."

And at that moment, I remembered that time in the woods when I saw Chris Argent and the new principal of the school, Gerard Argent, cutting a man in half.

Scott and Allison were keeping their status a secret because her family didn't want her dating a werewolf because they hunt them. That made sense to me already.

The man in the woods that they brutally killed was an omega, which is the lowest rank in a wolf pack or a lone wolf.

If he's not in a pack with Derek, then Scott was an omega.

I looked at Scott, my eyes wide in panic. "They're going to kill you, Scott," I mumbled, making them turn to me. "Remember that time in the woods? When Derek found me? The guy in the woods? That was an omega, right? Why else would they hunt him? I saw what they did to the guy, Scott. They killed him."

"Beth's right," Derek said. "Scott, they'll kill you just like they did to the omega. But with me, you learn how to use all of your senses. With me, you learn control, even on a full moon."

Scott raised his hand as claws slowly grew out of his fingers. I gulped and bit my lip as Derek slowly pushed me away from Scott.

"It's a full moon," he told me. "It's going to be dangerous around him because he can kill you, do you understand?"

I nodded, never talking my eyes off of Scott as his eyes flickered to a liquid gold after a few seconds before it turned back to brown.

"If I'm with you, I lose her," Scott said, referring to Allison.

"You're gonna lose her anyway," Derek answered, closing the box. "You know that."

Derek looked at Scott one more time before he walked towards me.

"Wait," he called out, making Derek turn to him again. "I'm not part of your pack, but I want him out."

"Why?" Derek questioned. "Because he's one of us?"

Scott glared at Derek. "Because he's innocent," he answered.

Derek sighed and nodded once, turning back to me and grabbing my arm, pulling me with him out of the room.

"Wait, what about Scott?" I asked.

"He's staying there because he doesn't want to hurt anybody, alright?" Derek answered. "Like I said, it's a full moon, it's going to be dangerous around him."

"Even Isaac?" I asked.

He nodded. "Even Isaac."

We walked out of the house, spotting Stiles' jeep driving to us. Uh-oh.

"Beth?" Stiles said, his eyes narrowed. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Stiles, it's fine," Derek said. "She understands everything. You can't keep everything from her, anyway. She's bound to know."

"But she's my sister—"

"Stiles!" I said. "Let's just go to Isaac, please? Before he transforms in front of other people and maims them."

Stiles sighed and ushered us to get in the car. I opened the door of the backseat and got in as Derek sat on the passenger's seat. Stiles started the engine and drove to the police station.

"Okay so the keys to every cell are in a password protected lockbox in my father's office," Stiles said.

"The only problem is getting past the front desk," I continued, spotting an officer by the window.

"I'll distract her," Derek said.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Stiles said, grabbing Derek's shoulder. "You? You're not going in there."

Derek gave him a look and Stiles slowly retracts his hand from his shoulder.

"I was exonerated," Derek said.

"You're still a person of interest," Stiles argued.

"An innocent person," he sighed.

"You? Yeah right," Stiles rolled his eyes. Derek gave him a look again. "Okay, fine. What's your plan?"

"To distract her," Derek repeated.

"Uh-huh, how?" Stiles asked. "By punching her in the face?"

"By talking to her," Derek answered, looking irritated with my fraternal twin.

"Okay, all right, give me a sample," he said. "What are you gonna open with?"

Derek didn't answer him and turned his gaze to the police station.

"Dead silence," Stiles said with sarcasm. "That should work beautifully. Any other ideas?"

"I'm thinking of punching you in the face," Derek glowered.

"Guys, as much as it is amusing me to see you both argue, we should go," I sighed. "Stiles, cut the sarcasm, alright?"

Stiles looked slightly offended. "I'm your brother why are you siding with him?"

"Because he informed me many things and is trying to help," I rolled my eyes, walking out of the car. "Now let's go, alright?"

"No, you're staying here," Stiles answered as he got out of the car.

"No, I'm not," I argued. "Isaac is in there and I want to help him."

"But—"

"Stiles, just let her help," Derek sighed as he started walking to the police station. "It's better than doing it alone."

Derek entered the police station and started flirting with the girl at the front desk. I snickered mentally.

We entered our dad's office. Stiles started punching the passcode, but once he opened the lockbox, there was no key.

He cursed. "Beth, stay here," he whispered to me, walking out and suddenly stopping, stuttering in front of an officer.

"Oh sh—" he was grabbed by the officer and I had to cover my mouth to stop myself from gasping and screaming.

The alarms suddenly rang, and I panicked, running near the door. I looked around the hallway and heard my brother thrashing.

I stood by the entrance again, and jumped as I heard growling.

Isaac.

I entered the room and saw Isaac, eyes glowing with claws and all the werewolf jazz. He looked frantic and out of it, which was probably the thing that Derek told me about the full moon.

"Isaac," I mumbled.

He smashed the head of the officer on the wall and he slid to the ground, unconscious. I gasped and he heard me, turning around.

"Beth, don't!" I heard my brother yell. Isaac turned to him and began advancing to him.

"Isaac, no!" I yelled. Isaac turned to me and began advancing to me instead. I tried to get past him but he cornered me to a wall, growling and breathing heavily.

I looked into his frantic eyes, and somehow, he stopped growling and breathing heavily altogether, looking calmer and more in control.

"Beth," he said as I spotted his sharp werewolf teeth.

I bit my lip and brought my hand up, running it through his hair. He closed his eyes and and leaned to my touch.

"So," I mumbled. "This is what a werewolf looks like."

Isaac swiftly opened his eyes, as if he just remembered that he was transformed in front of me.

"Crap," he muttered, preparing to step away. "I'm sorry—"

"It's fine," I smiled. "You didn't attack me, somehow."

He smiled. "That's good."

He took my hand gently, making sure that his claws weren't scratching me, and kissed them delicately.

"It looks like you've found your anchor," I heard someone voice out. "Good job."

I turned and saw Derek, looking in approval.

"An anchor?" I asked. "What's that?"

"It's something, either an object, a person or an emotion, that keeps a werewolf relatively calm and rational," Derek answered. "My anchor is anger. Scott's anchor is most possibly Allison. Surprisingly, Isaac easily found his anchor even in a short while as a werewolf, which is impressive."

"Then what's my anchor?" Isaac questioned.

Derek turned his head to my direction, looking into my eyes. "Beth is your anchor."


End file.
